


To Cease Before It Burned

by AuditoryCheesecake



Series: A Cheesecake's Tumblr Shorts [26]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: What if Bull had never kissed him? What if he’d never gone to Bull’s door and knocked, or had left in those few seconds before it opened? What if in the minutes between the door and the bed-- the soft conversation, the questions, the answers-- Bull hadn’t interrupted Dorian’s sudden speechlessness?





	

What if Bull had never kissed him? What if he’d never gone to Bull’s door and knocked, or had left in those few seconds before it opened? What if in the minutes between the door and the bed-- the soft conversation, the questions, the answers-- Bull hadn’t interrupted Dorian’s sudden speechlessness?

“Wait,” Bull had whispered. Why were they whispering? The night was deep and cold outside the windows, the closest person a guard on the wall or Sera snoring in the room below them. “Wait, I want to kiss you.”

Dorian had laughed at him. “Of course you can kiss me.” He had never _required_ it, and surely had sometimes not received it, but a kiss was always a welcome thing. Warmth, and closeness, and the chance to not be seen, but merely feel.

So Bull had kissed him. It wasn’t in itself the best kiss in the world, but there was something in it that was new. Bull’s hands cupped the curve of Dorian’s jaw, missing fingers light against the sides of his neck. It was soft, but not quick, barely more than the pressure of Bull’s lips on his own. Dorian himself belatedly gripped at Bull’s shoulders, bare even of his pauldron, the knives at his belt put away.

Dorian had kissed many men, and he thought maybe Bull had kissed more, but when Bull pulled away and Dorian slowly opened his eyes, it was clear-- whatever he had expected from himself or from Bull, this _was_ something. Lasting, long? He wasn’t sure. Bull leaned back in, and Dorian lifted himself up, reaching for that touch again.

Not softer, the second kiss. But not much harder, just the feeling of the world shifting around him. He moved away first, then, heart beating a little faster than he thought it should.

Bull had grinned then, a bright and familiar expression. It was easier to smirk back and saunter over the bed than to ask new questions. The ones he’d brought to Bull’s door were answered.

If Bull hadn’t kissed him then, if he had only done it an extension of sex, only as an afterthought, Dorian would not be staring at the door again now. He would have left already. He’d be off to his own room, to wash his hair and wear new clothes, and that would be that.

If Bull hadn’t kissed him last night, he wouldn’t want to kiss Bull this morning.

He looks at the door, on the other side of the room, so very far and so much colder than it is here under the blanket, pressed against Bull’s side. Bull sleeps-- or pretends to sleep-- sprawled on his back, chest rising and falling, the small dark mark that Dorian left below his collarbone clear in the sunlight. 

He looks back at Bull, half-hoping he’s opened his eyes and made Dorian’s decision for him. If his hand was a little closer to Dorian’s shoulder, or his face turned just slightly towards him… well that’s his answer, isn’t it? He can envision, so clearly, what he wants to happen next.

He sits up, feeling Bull shift a little in the space he’s left behind. He is awake, Dorian’s sure of it.

He could still leave. He thinks that Bull might not move until he does. Dorian can’t hope to guess his reasons, but the longer he sits, the more he wonders if Bull is hoping that-- he can’t choose. Hoping that he’ll leave or that he’ll stay?

He spends long minutes turning it over in his mind, and has one foot on the floor when he looks back at Bull.

Bull’s eye twitches, like if Dorian had been half a moment quicker, he’d have caught him watching. He stares hard at the side of Bull’s face.

If Bull hadn’t kissed him first, hadn’t been so soft and careful, Dorian would have no trouble leaving now.

Two can play that game, he figures.

He stands up slowly, gathers his clothes, puts on everything he can find. He thinks he might be back, after all. After tugging all his belts into place, Dorian goes back to the bed. He leans down quickly, before he can think better of it, and presses his lips to Bull’s.

Suddenly scared, he goes to the door. The sheets rustle behind him, but he doesn’t turn around.

Dorian stands with his hand on the doorknob and counts to twenty-five, heart hammering. If Bull says nothing, he will leave and close the door behind him.

At thirteen, he’s smug. At twenty-two, he swallows the feeling that he’s made a mistake. At twenty-six, he admits he might be wrong.

“Wait,” Bull says.


End file.
